Sea Longing
by Ellfine
Summary: Finarfin is a proper prince of the Noldor, but he harbors a secret which his family and the folk of Tirion would find appalling. Winner ALEC January 2010 Forbidden Love challenge


Many thanks to Fiondil and Istarnie for the beta.

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Noldorin blood flows in my veins, blood of the noblest strain of that clan. By birth and by design, I am destined to be skilled of hand, courageous of heart, and curious of mind – always questing to know more completely, see more clearly, understand more deeply. We are by nature crafters, makers, and builders constantly seeking to bend materials to our will.

There is much pomp and ceremony surrounding everything we do and say. Very little is done because of old custom, rather it is done because it can be done that way and we have the ever-increasing capability of making it so. As a prince, it is my duty to attend court and hear the complaints and concerns of the makers and doers and help establish ever higher standards to be exacted from all who would create. I am trained to competency in the making of jewelry, the carving of stone, the smithying of metal. My tutelage in lore, I received at the feet of the Valar themselves. I possess within myself the education and wherewithal which would make any lordly son of the Noldor proud.

But this is not what I really am. This is not what I desire to be.

As I dress for court and the council to be held afterward, I am reminded that even thread and fiber bends to the designs of our nissi. Pausing, I trace the embroidered patterns of seashells trimming the cuffs and hem of the silken fabric of my shirt. This is the sign of my rebellion which I will wear beneath my tunic and heavily brocaded robes. No one will notice for I am but one prince among three - all as heavily adorned and bound in noble garb as I will be.

My atar sent me to King Olwë in Alqualondë to observe Telerin customs and learn the ways of that clan's commerce in order to improve trade between our peoples. My more ambitious brothers could not be bothered with the "insignificant trifling of our less-learned, more primitive cousins" as Fëanáro put it. Eagerly I went forth, seeking to learn and understand and prove this third son's worth to an exacting atar. But what I have learned, my atar is not going to like.

I walked among the princes of that clan as ordered. I talked to the makers and builders and business leaders. I dined with lords and danced with ladies as any good diplomatic emissary would. I shrewdly deduced the best way for the Noldor to profit from agreements with the Teleri and strengthened political friendships as a prince representing his king should. But there were other things I did as well, things my atar would be appalled to know, things my brothers would have been ashamed to do.

I tied my hair back with a leather thong, donning a linen shirt and woolen trews. Side by side with the local fishermen, I hauled in catches of slithering fish. I sat on the docks, singing bawdy songs while mending nets. I stood barefoot and bare-chested on the deck of a fast ship, reveling in the feel of the salty wind on my skin and in my hair. Laboring for days with a hammer and the strength of my back, I helped build one of the graceful swanships which bless the harbor of Alqualondë. Frequently I sought my reverie lying on the beach by a fire, listening to songs and watching the stars which are so beautifully bright there on the coast, but nearly extinguished by the light of the Trees in Tirion. With the two grandchildren of Olwë and their young friends, I spent hours building towers and walled cities in the sand, then watching as the tide slowly washed them away - my cunning Noldorin mind already planning how best to build the next walled city to better withstand the next tide.

As my time in Alqualondë passed, I more often found myself wading in the waves or walking the jewel-strewn beaches looking for shells in the company of the Swanmaiden of Alqualondë, Olwë's daughter. The mingling light of the Trees smiled many times on the mingling of our hands and the joining of our lips.

I have only been back in Tirion for a day and already I miss the subtle play of the light in her shimmering silver hair. I miss her laugh and her beautiful voice raised in song, songs she composed for me. I long to lose myself in her intoxicating blue eyes – more heady than any wine I have tasted. The sea and the Swanmaiden call to me and all I wish to do is flee back to Alqualondë, build a fast ship, and raise a house and a family by the sea with my Eärwen.

But my king, my atar, would never allow it.

Sighing heavily, I place a golden collar adorned with emeralds about my neck. I set the circlet of my station upon my head and straighten my heavy constricting robes. Once again I am a son of the Noldor, a proper prince of my atar's realm. But my heart will always lie with the sea and the Swanmaiden of Alqualondë.

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Notes:

Níssi –women

Atar - father


End file.
